


B, Write Thesis

by JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle/pseuds/JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle
Summary: Based on OMG Check Please! episode04.17andthis blog post. As always, I own nothing.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 31
Kudos: 331





	B, Write Thesis

**Author's Note:**

> Based on OMG Check Please! episode [04.17](http://checkpleasecomic.com/comic/4-17-01) and [this blog post](https://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/189171582137). As always, I own nothing.

The microwave dinged and Bitty opened the door and sighed.

Whatever was in the mug, it wasn’t cake.

It was hot, that was for sure. And chocolate, which wasn’t all bad. But it had none of the structure or the texture of a real cake. Not even a cake from boxed mix.

To think his team -- _his team --_ had reduced him to this. “Baking” a mug cake in the microwave in the basement lounge at Founders. 

He pulled a plastic spoon -- not even a fork, no, this wasn’t a cake -- from the dispenser and took a bite.

His thoughts ranged from, “Mmm. Warm sugar” to “Ugh, grainy.” They were interrupted by the buzz of his phone on the tabletop.

Jack, texting back.

_Wait, explain to me again why convenience products like canned filling and refrigerated pie crusts were so bad?_

Bless his heart. He was trying so hard to help Bitty focus on his thesis, but really, after a year and a half of dating, he should know the value of baked goods from scratch. He must. Shouldn’t he?

_Don’t you play devil’s advocate with me, mister,_ Bitty typed back. _Thanks to me you don’t have to endure the horror of canned cherry pie filling. Which is different from actual canned cherries. Those can be an adequate substitute …_

By the time Bitty finished typing his message, the mug cake was a cold, congealed mess. Ugh. Bitty dumped it in the trash, along with the paper towels he used to wipe it out, then he stowed his containers of ingredients back in the cabinet that no one ever looked in.

Maybe he could find a way to make a recipe that would work? It would be hard to do it here, where there was just a microwave and a sink but not a full kitchen. If he tried it in the Haus, Dex would no doubt find a way to disable the microwave, too.

His phone buzzed again. There was no way Jack could have read the whole text he sent, was there?

_But refrigerated pie crusts aren’t so bad, are they? I mean, a lot of people don’t want to make pies because they think the crust is too hard to make, right? So pre-made pie crusts could get them started?_

Jack must have just skimmed what Bitty sent before looking for mentions of pie crust, which, fair, Bitty had forgotten about in his diatribe on the nastiness of canned filling. Why was Jack so interested in pie crust? 

_You of all people know that crust isn’t that hard. It’s just a basic short pastry. I mastered it when I was 5. I admit, it’s probably a little more pliable and easy to work with if you use lard as the fat, and people stopped doing that in the health crazes of the 70s and 80s. Thank P & G for making people believe that vegetable shortening was better for them than animal fat, even though that is totally not true …_

Bitty went back up to his table to pack up his books and laptop. He’d made a start, at least, on the introduction to his thesis, explaining that mass production, preservatives and an expanded national transportation network had all combined to change the way home bakers made their food, in some cases all but erasing regional differences, and why this wasn’t a good thing for people who wanted to eat fresh, local food.

Now he just had to work on the supporting sections. He didn’t know why it was so hard to get it down on paper, or, he supposed, on his laptop screen. He knew what he wanted to say; it was as easy as anything to explain it all to Jack on his phone.

When Bitty reached the Haus, he went in the back door and cast a despairing look at the oven, literally chained closed with a huge padlock. Just so he couldn’t forget.

Really, he could organize his thoughts so much better if he could bake. And Dex had disabled the whole stove, so no one could even use the burners on top. How was he supposed to take care of his boys if he couldn’t cook for them?

That must be why the Haus was empty. Everyone must have gone to the D-hall. Which, fine. Bitty had a stash of Jack’s favorite protein bars upstairs. He could make do with those and watch the Falconers game by himself if everyone was going to shun him until his thesis was done.

Wait, Jack had a game tonight. He shouldn’t have been spending all that time texting with Bitty. Bitty would give him a piece of his mind. After the game. Maybe if they skyped he could give him something else …

Bitty opened his laptop to watch the pregame. There was a new email notification -- probably Atley reminding him again that Coach Hall would pull him if he didn’t turn in a completed draft by next week. Not responding wouldn’t look good.

No, the email was from Jack, which was weird, because even though Jack was an old man, he’d mastered the basics of texting. Wait -- it was to all of SMH.

_Hey Bittle, (hey everyone)_

_I copy-pasted your texts from yesterday and today into the attached doc. You’re at 5000 words. (I don’t know if emojis count.)_

_Pretty sure you can submit this if you clean it up a bit._

Oh, lordy. This boy.

The pregame was starting with an interview Tater had given after morning skate.

“But we outplay them when we stay fast and move puck,” Tater was saying. “B, write thesis!”

Really. These boys.


End file.
